


Avenging Angel

by OsirisApollo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Angel Healing, Attempted Kidnapping, BAMF Castiel, BAMF Dean, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel Can Hear Longing, Dean Feels, Dean In Love, Humor, Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, One Shot, Protective Castiel, Sam Ships It, Stubborn Dean, accidental prayer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 02:51:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9414734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OsirisApollo/pseuds/OsirisApollo
Summary: When Dean gets tired of Sam trying to talk about his feelings for Castiel, he leaves to think things through on his own. He should have spent more time paying attention to his surroundings.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nerukimi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerukimi/gifts).



> This was super hard to write! I never really thought about how hard it would be to write fight scenes... I guess I learned my lesson though!  
> Nerukimi requested BAMF Castiel and Dean reluctantly allowing Cas to heal him. I hope this fits the bill!  
> Sorry this took so long!  
> Thank you for all the great comments on my fics ^_^  
> NOW WITH ART!! By the amazing [Purgatory-jar!!](http://purgatory-jar.tumblr.com)  
> Please don't use this art without permission AND credit for both Purgatory-jar and myself.

Dean had just needed some time to himself.

As much as he loved his little brother, he needed to get away. They had been stuck in the car, and crappy motel rooms, for a month. Although it had never seemed to bother him before, it did now that they had the bunker. The knowledge that they had a sort of home to go back to made it so much worse. It probably didn’t help that they were getting older, and they had become accustomed to having their own space. With all the time they were spending together Dean felt like he was suffocating, especially with the added weight of knowledge in his brother’s eyes.

Dean didn’t really know when it had started. This  _ thing _ he had for the angel in their midst. He had no idea how long it had been going on, but it seemed like by the time he had gotten around to realizing what he was feeling, Sam was already fairly familiar with the idea.

They would be sitting at a diner, and Dean would be staring at Castiel’s lips, wondering what the angel would taste like, and he’d look up just in time to see his brother roll his eyes in a exasperated way. As if he had seen it a thousand times before. How Sam had been able to recognize it before he had, Dean had no idea. 

The irritating part came when the conversations they had when the angel wasn’t around began to turn into a collection of  _ what if _ and  _ you should _ . It’s like his brother had also figured out that he was finally admitting his feelings to himself and wanted to press the issue. Dean didn’t really understand the reasoning, but he knew it was irritating.

So, Dean had told his brother he was going out. The disappointment on Sam’s face when he told him he was going to have a few drinks was completely unnecessary. He wasn’t going out to pick up chicks, or get totally smashed. He just needed some time away from his nosey little brother who always seemed to know too damn much.

It had started out well enough. Just a man at the bar, nursing a few drinks and staring off into space. Luckily, none of the people here could read his mind (probably), and he could just stare into the abyss and think. He hated to admit, even to himself, that Sam occasionally made good points in his little speeches, and he had plenty to think about.

He must have spent hours staring at nothing by the time they kicked him out. It was closing time. There was no one else in the bar, and he hadn’t even noticed that they had started cleaning the areas around him. The look on the bartender’s face said she was sorry for having to kick him out. He probably looked like a real sap sitting at the bar, alone, deep in thought for the entire night. He threw her one of his charming smiles and dropped a tip onto the bar, before heading out.

The parking lot had been completely full when he’d gotten there, but was empty now. He really was the last one out. He glanced both ways out of reflex, but there were no cars on the road at this hour. The Impala was parked the next street over, and he headed in that direction.

His head was still filled with swirling thoughts and emotions, and when he saw the group of youngsters walking his direction, he swerved to the outer edge of the sidewalk to pass them. The group spread out a little in response and it drew his attention. But by then it was too late.

The group was fanning out to trap him, and he could hear foreboding footsteps behind him, and he knew he was surrounded. And of course he had left his gun in the car, because he’d been too busy thinking about his goddamn  _ feelings _ .

“What do you guys want?” He growled. He was not in the mood to deal with a bunch of punks in the middle of the night. He glanced around at the group to make sure there were no fangs, just in case. Nope, just a group of dumbass humans.

“I’ve only got like fifty bucks, and it’s all yours.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, waving it at the hoodlums.

“Sorry, buddy.” The tallest one said, sending him a nasty looking grin. Still no fangs, luckily. “We don’t want your money.”

Of course they didn’t. That would have been much too easy.

“What do you want then?” He honestly couldn’t imagine. He wasn’t wearing anything they could possibly be interested in.

“Well, here’s the deal, guy. We’ve got some friends that need to eat. They have a very... usual appetite.” There were titters from the crowd and Dean felt sick to his stomach. These weren’t the vampires. These were the humans they had somehow convinced to do their hunting for them. No wonder they thought this town was clear of vampires. The vampires weren’t here.

“So, you need me to get you some McDonalds or what?” The hunter scanned the area, looking for a way out.

The leader laughed a bit at that. “Yeah, that’s not what we meant.”

Dean could feel the guys behind him closing in, and chanced a glance back to get a better idea of how many there actually were. Six.

“Six on one. Well, that just doesn’t seem fair.” Dean grounded himself, ready to fight back. If he was going down, he was going down swinging.

“It’s not supposed to be.” The grin that he gave the hunter at the words was sinister, and he nodded at one of the guys behind Dean. It could only mean that things were about to get ugly.

The hunter could feel the circle closing in around him and decided that it was time to strike. Being the kind of man that he was, he went straight for the guy that seemed to be leading them. His fist smashed into the other man’s face with a satisfying ‘thud’ and Dean grinned at the look of astonishment that showed right before the connection. They weren’t expecting him to fight back, which gave him a few moments of advantage.

The leader was knocked back a couple of steps from the sudden attack, and Dean registered the blood on his face with pride as he turned to the next closest guy. He managed to land an uppercut, sending the younger man to his knees, before it seemed to register to the group what was happening. His advantage was immediately lost as the rest moved almost as one to stop him.

One of them had gotten ahold of his right arm before he could land another punch, but he was fairly used to being restrained and changed his attack instantly. A third guy was surprised with a knee to the gut, and when he instinctively bent forward to protect himself, Dean was able to land a left hook to the temple before his left arm was also restrained.

His anger at the idea that these humans were working with the vampires was enough to fuel his next attack and he kicked out at the next man that approached, connecting with the inside of his knee and watching in gratification as he tumbled over. Dean expected that the kick had broken something, and not just caused the other man to lose his balance. The steel toes of his boots, and the sickening crack that had accompanied the kick gave him hope.

His dreams were dashed a bit as he felt the cool metal of a handcuff slapping onto his wrist, and felt the telltale tugging in his shoulders that said his arms would soon be bound behind his back and completely useless. The click of metal onto his other wrist showed that his assumptions had been correct, but the man behind him that was accomplishing the binding had made a fatal mistake. 

He was standing much too close, and Dean took a deep breath to steady himself. He felt the warmth of the other body directly behind him, and when he felt the other man’s breath on his neck he snapped his head back, smashing it into the man’s face and relishing in the sound of a broken nose, even as his own vision swam momentarily from the contact.

There was a rough hand on his shoulder then, gripping much too tightly, and an angry gruff voice off to his side.

“You fucking morons! Stay the out of the damn way!” It was the leader, who had apparently recovered from Dean’s initial attack.

The hunter knew that this was his last chance, and even as he thought it that chance was taken away. A brutal kick landed into his ribcage and he wheezed as the air was knocked out of him. There was another set of hands on his other shoulder and he was roughly shoved face first into the wall. Although he had managed to turn his face before he took a nosedive into the brick, he felt his lip split as it made contact. He felt the uneven surface scrape along the side of his face, and there was a ringing in his ear from where it had taken a nearly direct hit with the action.

Dean knew what came next. He was nearly helpless at this point and he had gotten too many good licks in. They took turns, then, landing punches and kicks meant to prove who was superior. When a knee connected with his side, upsetting his already bruised ribs, he couldn’t help but let out a pained groan, and as if they were encouraged by the sound, the beating intensified.

Whoever was holding him up seemed to be more interested in getting his fair share of hits in, because he was released, but before he could do anything about that his legs were knocked out from under him, and he landed on the ground without the aid of his arms to stop it. Pain shot through his shoulder as he landed hard on it, forcing him to cry out sharply.

Dean lying mostly motionless on the ground seemed to make the group realize that they had possibly gone too far, and they seemed to just stare down at him for a moment. The leader took his position at the front of the group again. Instead of picking the hunter up and throwing him into the van that no doubt would take him wherever the vampires were, the man grinned down at the hunter with his blood covered face. His foot snapped forward, and before Dean could react it smashed down onto his ankle.

The scream that came out of the hunter spoke of the extreme pain the action had caused.

“Let’s see you try to get away now.” The man said, still grinning. “Or maybe I should do the other one too?”

“I doubt you will live to see the chance.” The angry growl that issued the words caused more than one of the men to jump and turn around. The voice had a completely different effect on Dean, and although he couldn’t see the speaker he was filled with a rush of relief that had him closing his eyes briefly and thanking his lucky stars.

“And who the hell are you?” The leader nodded at one of the guys to keep an eye on Dean, and turned his attention to the new addition. 

The hunter could imagine what they were thinking. Castiel’s vessel was not a particularly intimidating man. He was of average height, and average build. He looked like a businessman that hadn’t bothered to change out of his lower level suit before heading to the nearest drinking hole. He was in no way menacing. Unless you knew the smiting that was promised by his face was something that he could actually accomplish, with little effort.

“That is not of import.” The angel’s glare landed on Dean and his fury was palpable in the air surrounding them. “You will not be allowed to lay another had on him.”

The group seemed amused by the comment, but put up a defensive stance anyway. They had probably learned their lesson for underestimating Dean.

“Move along, buddy. This isn’t your business.” The leader said, taking a more aggressive stance when Castiel’s eyes drifted back to him.

“If your intention is to hurt Dean, it is certainly my business.” The angel said plainly.

It seemed to register that the new addition was a friend of Dean’s, and the leader decided to be the one that threw the first punch this time.

Dean had been there before. Throwing a punch into what was effectively a rock. The sight of the angel being completely unaffected by the action was probably a million times scarier when you didn’t even know what he was. The surprise and fear on the leader’s face as he clutched his presumably broken hand to his chest were satisfying enough to amuse the hunter, despite his injuries. They had no idea what they were getting into.

Two of the other men came at Castiel then, supposing that they would be more successful in numbers. The angel grabbed the closest arm and swung the first man out of the way, and as the supplementary guy approached he slapped a hand to the man’s forehead. He held him in place with the hand not currently occupied.

It took Dean longer than it should have to realize what was about to happen, and he blamed it on the beating he had taken.

“Cas!” The angel’s eyes snapped to his face immediately. “They’re human.”

As much as he wanted to see these idiots suffer, the thought of watching Castiel smite a group of humans made his stomach curl unpleasantly. The look in the angel’s eye spoke of frustration now, but he released his hand from it’s smiting position.

If the group thought Castiel would take it easy on them now, knowing they were human, they couldn’t have been more wrong. Just because Dean had asked him not to kill them didn’t mean he couldn’t cause them incredible amounts of pain.

The man he still held was tossed aside like the trash he was, and he struck a defensive position that spoke of plenty of experience in hand to hand combat. One of the guys made to throw a punch which was caught neatly by the angel. He didn’t even hesitate as he twisted the arm in his grip and then dropped an elbow down hard on the now misshapen limb. The resulting sound was drowned by the shriek of the man. His arm was released and he was pushed away from the angel hard as two other men came at him again. He hit the wall heavily and dropped to the ground, holding his broken arm in place.

The angel almost looked bored as he dodged the blows thrown his way. He allowed them a couple of chances before he retaliated. He grabbed one of them by the shirt and smashed his head into the man’s face, knocking him out cold. As the man lay in a lifeless lump at his feet, Dean realized it was the same man who had gotten his nose broken by the hunter earlier. Jesus.

The other man was not lucky enough to be unconscious, and he felt every second of the angel dislocating his shoulder and using his now limp arm to throw him bodily into the leader that had been watching the proceedings with wide eyes and his broken hand still held close. The other man hit him with enough force that they both ended up on the ground, where they wisely decided to stay.

There was one man left standing, and he took off running the second he realized it. The angel was faster, and the man joined in Dean’s pain as his ankle was crushed under his own weight and the weight of an angel bending him backwards until his back slammed into the sidewalk.

The avenging angel stood, not even out of breath, and headed back in Dean’s direction. The hunter tried not to notice how Castiel’s eyes softened as soon as they landed on him again. That look of pure hatred clearing instantly. That was when the angel saw the man against the wall near  Dean whimpering and clutching his knee while looking like he might piss himself any second.

Castiel’s head tilted and he seemed to be contemplating who this other man could be. It was the one that Dean had gotten his best hit at earlier. It looked like the hunter may have been successful in breaking something because the guy looked like he wanted to be as far from this place as he could be, but he made no move to get up.

The look on the angel’s face was of disappointment, and Dean wondered if he was upset that he didn’t get a crack at that one. Castiel seemed to decide on ignoring the man, and he headed to the hunter’s side, dropping to his knees beside him. Dean pulled his arms up a little to show that he was cuffed, and the angel seemed to understand the request before the hunter had to say anything.

Castiel used his grace to release him from the handcuffs, and Dean forced himself to stand. Although he had to use the wall a lot more then he would have liked to make that happen. He batted the angel’s hands away when they moved to help him.

“What are you doing here, Cas?”

“Sam said you would possibly need a ride home.”

Dean rolled his eyes. Of course Sam had told him that. Sam thought he’d gone out to get wasted and sleep with random chicks. Just went to show that his brother didn’t know  _ everything _ . 

“I’m fine.” The hunter grunted as he pulled himself away from the wall. He fell back onto it immediately as the pain in his ankle shot up through his leg when he put pressure on it.

Castiel reached forward, and right before his fingers could connect with the hunter’s forehead, Dean slapped his hand away. The angel scowled.

“Dean, why won’t you allow me to heal you?” The angel seemed genuinely confused as he watched Dean pull in pained breaths and clutch his side. There was probably at least one broken rib under the giant bruise he knew was forming.

“Don’t play dumb, Cas. You and I both know you’ve been having trouble recharging ever since that fucking attack dog spell. You don’t need to be wasting your mojo on me. Save it for something more important.”

“What could possibly be more important than your health and comfort?” That honest confusion was the problem, right there. The continued implication that Castiel put Dean’s health over his own. That he truly cared about the hunter’s well being. A celestial being that continually put himself in danger to ensure the safety of Dean and his brother. An immortal that risked losing the eternity he was promised in order to care for two puny, useless humans. The hunter didn’t need a damn cherub with a bow and arrow. That was the shit that got him.

“If you hadn’t showed up I would have had to heal the old fashioned way, anyhow.” Dean shrugged and pulled in a few steadying breaths, readying himself to try moving again.

“But I am here now.”

And wasn’t that just some damsel in distress shit. His knight in shining armour turned out to be an angel in a trenchcoat. He couldn’t even find it within himself to be surprised. Christ, his life was fucked up. Sam would probably wet himself when he heard about it.

“Well this damsel has been saved. Thanks for the help, but I can live with the injuries. I’ll meet you back at the hotel.”

Dean pulled himself away from the wall, flinching as soon as he had to put pressure on his stupid ankle. His breath hissed out through his teeth and he managed only half a dozen steps before the angel was pulling his arm over his shoulder to become his makeshift crutch.

“If you will not allow me to heal you, at least allow me to help you back to the car.”

Dean wouldn’t admit how grateful he was for the help. At this point he was fairly certain his ankle was broken. Which meant he’d either be forced to go to the hospital, or he was going to have to accept the healing Castiel was offering. He was not ready to admit defeat yet, though.

He allowed the angel to practically drag him to his car, and breathed a pained sigh of relief when he was finally lowered into the driver’s seat.

Castiel was looking at him pointedly, and it took the hunter a second to realize why. The broken ankle was, of course, the right one. Which meant he wouldn’t even be able to drive himself with it. He groaned as he felt his resolve to be difficult crumbling.

“Ok, buddy. You win. I can’t walk, I can’t drive, and if I leave it like this I will be useless.”

Castiel immediately reached forward, but Dean slapped his hand again.

“Don’t get any ideas. Just the ankle. The rest of it will heal.” Although he might have to give in about the ribs too, eventually.

The angel let out a sound of frustration, but he squat down next to him to reach for his injury. Dean pulled his leg gently back out of the footwell to make the action easier. Castiel pulled his pant leg up and looked down at the swollen purple mound of flesh that used to be an ankle. He let out another angry sound before he gently pressed his long, cold fingers to the injury.

The coolest part of having the angel heal this way was the very light sheen of glowing blue that covered the angry bruise. When he healed individual injuries, Dean could actually see the grace that was forced into him during the healing process. It was one of those weird occurrences that helped remind the hunter that he was dealing with a supernatural being, and not just some really hot dude that followed them around.

When his injury was healed the angel released his leg and glared up at him in a clear indication of his irritation at the hunter’s stubbornness.

“Thanks, buddy.” Dean grinned at him, regretting it when it reopened the split in his lip. He cringed and ran his tongue over the spot. 

“Dean…” The angel didn’t finish the sentence, but it wasn’t necessary. The hunter was well aware that Castiel was not happy at not being allowed to heal the rest of his wounds.

“Come on, man. I’m fine.” The skeptical look on the angel’s face was uncalled for, in Dean’s opinion. The hunter just rolled his eyes. “Meet me back at the hotel.” 

The angel continued to glare at him as he stepped back and allowed Dean to close the door of his car. The hunter watched as Castiel climbed safely into his own car before he punched on the gas.

 

When they met back up at the room, Sam was suspiciously absent.

“What made you drive out here, anyway?” Dean asked, trying not to seem intimidated by the angel’s closeness. Castiel had insisted on cleaning some of his wounds the human way if the hunter wouldn’t allow him to do it angelically.

“You prayed to me.”

Dean certainly didn’t remember doing anything of the sort. He had made sure not to pray to the other man ever since he had realized his feelings. Once he realized his affection, he hadn’t been able to think of much else, and he didn’t need Castiel hearing any of those thoughts inadvertently. His face must have shown his confusion because the angel continued the thought after a brief moment of silence.

“Dean, do you remember when I told you about Claire accidently praying to me? That her longing to speak to me was strong enough to be heard like a prayer.”

Dean froze all action at the words. No. Fucking. Way. Those were his private thoughts. The introspection he had been suffering was not anything he was ready to share, especially not with the celestial being currently taking up way too much of his personal space.

“Was there something that you wished to speak to me about?” Castiel looked as earnest as he always did, and there wasn’t really an indication that he knew what Dean had been thinking about earlier. Dean took a steadying breath and tried to ignore his sudden fear.

“Uh, not really, man.” Dean was more uncomfortable than he had ever been, and rubbed a palm on the back of his neck, turning away from the angel’s constant staring contest. “I guess I just missed you or something.” He really didn’t feel ready to talk to Castiel about all the thoughts that had been racing through his mind lately.

The angel looked exceptionally pleased with his answer anyway. “You missed me?” He sounded unsure, and it made Dean cringe.

If Castiel was this surprised that the hunter had been missing him, how would he have reacted if Dean had told him what he had really been thinking about?

“Uh, yeah. I guess I just got used to having you around, or something.” The hunter tried to keep the insecurities out of his tone, but with all the awkwardness in the way he was talking even the angel was bound to notice he wasn’t being completely honest.

“I miss you, as well. Whenever we are away from each other.” The angel told him sincerely, and Dean struggled to contain the flush he could feel trying to form. 

Luckily, the door opening was loud enough to draw both of their attention to Sam making his way into the room. He froze when he saw them, and Dean realized the position they were in might look a little compromising. He gave his head a little shake so his brother wouldn’t make a big deal out of nothing. The last thing he needed was for his brother to walk back out of the room right now. He was the perfect distraction and Dean was grateful.

When the door was closed behind him, Sam flicked on the extra lights and immediately drew a surprised breath. “What the hell happened?” His concern was written all over his face and he moved quickly to Dean’s side. 

The eldest Winchester concluded that he did in fact look like he had taken the beating of a lifetime, if his brother was that concerned already. 

“I’ve told you before not to piss off the nerd angels.” Dean told him, implying that the angel had been the one to deliver the damage.

The look on Sam’s face while he assessed Castiel was filled with genuine shock.

Yeah, laughing this hard with what was probably at least one broken rib wasn’t wise, and Dean cringed and clutched his side as he did. It was worth it. He really needed a good laugh, even if it was more of a tortured wheeze.


End file.
